Love Me Dead
by schoolgirl-cheesesculpture
Summary: America wakes up to find himself tied to a chair in the middle of a strange room. Whitetyger123 and schoolgirl-cheesesculpture's first Russia/America roleplay. Rated M for hardcore S&M, blood, swearing and borderline rape.
1. Chapter 1

**Whitetyger123 - Yay! A cool, amazing awesome RP! Showing off my true self... kolkolkol**

Schoolgirl-cheesesculpture - Yeah... I bit _too_ much... But third time's a charm for finding the characters we RP the best at I guess (Why must I so good at RPing America ;__;)

**Whitetyger123 - Oh well. You were also good as Canada and England, but definitely excel as our pig-headed Alfred. But ya, we don't own Hetalia. Or any whips, knives, or other weapons you might see in this fic. Seriously... I don't own anything like that... **

Schoolgirl-cheesesculpture - .... I'm not going to say anything... if we owned Hetalia, we would have given Canada a bigger role, and obviously that hasn't happened.

.oOo.

America woke up slowly, the back of his head pounding in time with his heart beat. With a groan, he went to rub the back of his head when something stopped him from moving his arm. Getting more confused by the second, he looked down and saw that he was tied to the chair he was sitting in at the ankles and wrists, restricting all but his neck and hips.

Put off by the situation, Alfred then looked around where he was being held hostage. It seemed to be a small supply cabin for hikers and various military groups because of the piles of moth-eaten blankets, a small, cracked mirror on the wall and what seemed to be packages of dried food. Twisting his neck to see behind him, he saw that there was only one door in and out of the small room.

**On the other side of the one-way mirror, looking at his captive, sat Russia. He smiled, seeing America wake slowly. The drugs were finally wearing off. Now it was time for some fun.**

**He went over to the door and opened it slowly. The creaking must have alerted the prisoner, because he turned around, frantic for answers.**

"What the hell is going on?!" America yelled, straining against his bonds. He glared intently at the tall Russian that was behind him.

**'Obviously I have kidnapped you, dear Alfred. The question here is more what are you doing? Do you want your wrists to bleed?' Ivan slowly took off his scarf and folded it onto a chair in the corner. He didn't feel the need to get it dirty. For the same reason he was almost glad Alfred hadn't been wearing his trademark jacket when he had fallen unconscious. 'Now it would be better if you would stop trying to injure yourself.'**

"Injure myself my ass. That's what you want me to do, isn't it you commie bastard." He watched as Ivan took his scarf off and placed it lovingly on a chair. That was never a good sign; if he was taking off his scarf that means something messy was going to happen. And with him, that usually meant one of two things: a fire, or blood. He loved that stupid thing too much for it to be anything but.

**'Injure yourself? No. That would be my job.' As he spoke, he took out a cigarette and a match. Once it was lit, he took a long drag, the tip slightly lighting up the room. Then he took it out of his mouth and said through the smoke, 'I need some information that you have.' He leaned down, grabbing America's arm with the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette. 'And you're going to give it to me, da?' He rolled up Alfred's sleeve and brought the butt of the cigarette to his arm, holding it there while his captive squirmed in pain. He heard a sharp breath, but that was it. The proud country was trying to keep his dignity.**

"Give you information? Ha. Nice try." America smiled through the pain spiking through his arm. "I'd be more willing to let Canada hang out with your commie friend Cuba than tell _you_ anything." He continued grinning heroically up at the violet gaze. No matter what he did to him -whether it be physically or mentally- a hero would never let his guard down. _Never_. He was after all, a free country.

**'Yes, speaking about **_**our**_** friend Canada, he is the one I need information about. You see, he is in possession of a few resources that I need. Resources that he is supplying you with. Resources that, if you didn't have, I would have won the Cold War.' He turned around the cigarette in his hand and held it out to America's mouth. 'Smoke.' But the democracy-obsessed idiot turned his head. Russia grabbed him by the chin and forced the end of the cigarette into his mouth. 'Smoke.' He said once again, more forcefully this time.**

Before inhaling, something in Alfred's mind clicked. He figured out a way how to get around this little inconvenience. Smirking slightly at Ivan still he calmly exhaled and inhaled... Through his nose.

**Noticing that the idiot was breathing through his nose, he grabbed the cigarette with the hand that was holding America's chin, freeing the other hand so he could pinch his nose, forcing him to breathe in the smoke. He smiled as Alfred's face went slightly blue. Then he gave in and took a drag from the cigarette. 'There you go.' He took out the smoke and turned around, wiping some ash from his white glove. 'But, as always, you will not give me the information that I need so easily. Which do you want first? The pipe, the knife, or the whip?'**

Coughing slightly, America wiped his mouth off on his shoulder. "You're not going to get me to crack that easily." He watched Russia stand off to the side calmly, his arm extended to show off the selection of weapons. "And what are you talking about, _our_ friend Canada? And resources? How could have fresh water and lumber helped you to win the Cold War? No matter what I would have won. I win everything, or did you forget?" Another grin flashed at Russia.

**'There are other resources that he has that could be used to make things very useful in wars. Since your brain is too small to comprehend, I'll give you a hint. It makes things blow up.' Russia studied his weapons, deciding which was best for such an occasion. America wasn't being cooperative in deciding which he wanted, so he was going to pay.**

"...Uranium? Like he'd give you that. He's my bro, not yours. If I lost, he knew he wouldn't last long after." America experimentally started to twist his wrist in order to get more slack in the bonds to be able to untie it. He did it slow enough so that Russia wouldn't notice and try and stop him. His grin faltered for a second as he chided himself on not being able to save himself. 'A hero not able to save himself' he thought.

**'Yes, he does need a protector, doesn't he? But what is to say that I could not protect him better than you do?' He said, not even turning around to look at his captive. He selected his favourite weapon: his pipe. He turned around, finished with this useless conversation. 'I suppose there is not even any point on asking if you wish to give me the information before I start the fun?'**

Alfred's smirk returned full force, though his eyes gave away the sight fear in the pit of his stomach. "Glad you've learnt that. I've sworn to my people to protect my country and its secrets with my life."

**'So loyal. So stupid.' He looked to his beloved pipe and saw a smear of red on it. While he walked up to America's chair, he licked off the blood. He smiled at the look of disgust adorning his prisoner's face. 'Lithuania was being a tad bit rebellious yesterday.' He explained. 'Enough chit chat.' He said, right before grabbing the end of the pipe and swinging it with full force at America's chest. He let out a loud, pained grunt as his chair was propelled backwards and he fell onto the floor, still secured to the arm rests and legs. His glasses fell off his face as he coughed up some blood. Russia walked around so he could see him and saw the spectacles on the floor. He smiled at the satisfying crunch as he stepped on them.**

Grimacing, America watched as Russia loomed over him, grinning manically. "Some advice: That's not a good conversation-ender. Most _normal_ people would just walk away. But who ever said you were normal." Once again he turned his face to the side and spat out more blood. "But anyways, good try. Too bad I won't break as easily as your favourite toy."

**'I tend to think all toys are my favourite.' He said, kicking away the broken shards of glass. He put the pipe on America's neck, pressing down slightly. 'I'm not one to play favourites.' When he started to gasp for breath, Russia lifted it up and placed it back in with the other weapons. Next, he picked up a deadly looking knife.**

"Don't try and fool me. I know Lithuania's your bitch." Upon seeing the serrated knife, Alfred beamed while inwardly gasping. "Awww... Are you going to cut me free? I knew you had a nice streak hidden somewhere in your cold, uncaring heart."

**Smiling even more, Russia walked over there, kneeling down. 'Oh yes, but you better not move, or I might... slip.' With that, he took the knife to America's arm and sliced through his shirt and nicked the skin, red blossoming out of the open wound. 'Oops.' Another cut, this time farther up the arm, and a little longer, but just as shallow. He wouldn't want his victim to faint from blood loss and ruin his fun.**

Alfred continued to grin as his arms proceeded to get countless shallow cuts from Russia's hand 'slipping'. It didn't take too long before both sleeves were cut open, the cold air hitting the spider web-like cuts causing tears to spring to his eyes. Holding them back, America gave a slightly pained laugh. "And that's supposed to hurt? Try wrestling grizzly bears."

**'I once saw a grizzly bear be torn in half and eaten by a polar bear. Then I killed that polar bear for food.' He made a slightly deeper cut on Alfred's neck, and he bent down a licked off the crimson liquid, loving the coppery taste.**

**When he was finished with the shirt, he left it in tatters and went to work on the pants. Long, slow strokes of the blade made short work of them. He could feel America's body twitch in pain, but the idiot blond kept up the act.**

After shivering slightly from being exposed to the cool air, America scoffed. "Yah right. Like grizzly bears live in Russia. Anyone who's anyone knows they only live in America. And Canada."

He tried twisting his wrist slowly again, finding the rope to have become a bit looser from his previous actions. He waited for just the right moment; when Ivan bent over him again, holding the knife with a psychotic gleam to his eyes. Twisting his wrist again just to make sure his plan would work, America smirked again. "Well, whatever. I just have two words for you, _Braginski_: Fuck. You." And with that, he slipped his one hand from the bond and punched Russia square on the jaw with as much force as he could muster in his present position. His heart soared as heard a subtle crack of Russia's jaw being almost dislocated.

**Holding his aching jaw with his left hand, Russia's right hand flew like lightening and grabbed onto America's free hand with a vice-like grip. 'You should not have done that, **_**Jones**_**.' He pinned the hand under his boot and stood up, leaning on that foot to get his pipe once again. Keeping the wrist under his boot, he put the straight end of the pipe to his captive's mouth. 'Open.' Of course, America refused, so Russia had to force it in. He heard a slight strangled gurgling sound coming from below, but he just pushed down harder on the pipe. 'Deep throat it, you slut.' Blood was starting to come from the blonde's mouth. With his free hand, Russia felt his jaw once more. 'That hurt, you know.' He said, his innocent tone of voice sounding alien in the situation.**

America spluttered as soon as the pipe left his mouth. For the third time he turned his face to the side and started violently coughing up blood. After it was free from the worst of the blood, he turned to look back up at Russia, his eyes burning with malice. Even with his now raw throat, Alfred managed to growl. "Fuck...You...."

**'Even when it would be better for you to shut up, you try to talk nonetheless.' He bent down and tied up his wrist once again, making sure that all the bonds were secure so the same thing wouldn't happen again. 'Now, for something I have wanted to do for a while. I wonder what your dear England will think when he sees it.' He went to his weapons case and got a small box. He brought it over and opened the lid, revealing a syringe. 'A little something to remember me by.' He explained, taking out the needle and sterilizing it. To get Alfred's nipple erect, Russia teased it a little. Then, he touched the needle to one end. With an evil smile, he pushed it through. There was blood, but not as much as had been coughed up. He licked it off, and then stuck a ring through it, closing the clasp. 'Now, remember to clean it three times a day.' His smile widened with the sarcasm.**

As Ivan walked away to get some other object, Alfred let his mouth open wide in a silent scream; his hips and back arching from the chair from the pain. God damn commie bastard, thinking he could mark America as his own. He hadn't belonged to anyone since his days of being England's colony.

At first he had cursed the crawling coldness that seemed to inhabit ever corner of Russia's country, but at the moment it helped to dull the pain that was coursing its way cruelly through his body. Before Russia started walking back over to his slightly crippled body, he made sure to paint his trademark grin on his face. "Second course?"

**'Yes, I think I will.' He placed the rope he had gotten right beside America's head and bent down. He brought his face to the un-pierced nipple, and fit his teeth around it - areola and all-, biting down as hard as he could. He heard the muffled scream from above. Then, with his right hand, he pushed on the other nipple, his own personal pain button. He started tasting blood, and just bit harder.**


	2. Chapter 2

"God dammit!" America all-but yelled, his mind screaming in pain. Ivan continued to bite, as if doing nothing more then enjoying a piece of food. Even with his mouth and throat rubbed raw from Russia's metal pipe, he still couldn't seem to keep the torrent of insults and cocky remarks from forcing their way out. "...Bastard..." He winced as his newly pierced nipple was flicked lightly again as Russia unattached himself from Alfred's chest, smirking creepily.

**Reaching behind him, Russia grabbed a bottle of vodka he had obviously put there a while ago. 'Now for something to drink with my meal.' He took off the bottle cap and drank from it, obviously used to the burn of it. When he was done, he didn't turn the bottle back up vertically, but let about half of it pour onto America's cut-filled body.**

He hissed quietly as the alcohol burned his multitude of cuts; his voice never going more about a whisper, dare Ivan realize just how much he was getting through to him. "Mhh... Nice..." America forced himself to grin again, his eyes glinting dangerously.

**'You know, Alfred, you are a remarkable person.' Russia leaned over the almost-broken man to retrieve his knife. 'You really are.' He put the knife between one of the ropes on his right wrist and cut it free, grabbing onto the arm to force it still. 'Many men in your position would have already told me where the spies were.' The bond on the other wrist was freed, and he grabbed the rope he had gotten earlier. 'But not you.' He tied his wrists together with a flawless knot. 'I would be glad to call you my friend.' He freed his feet, getting him to stand on shaky legs. 'Too bad we are enemies.' With that, he punched America in the gut, making him double up in pain.**

The force of the punch caused Alfred to fall back to the floor, curling into a ball on his side and lying in the somewhat congealed blood on the ground. He gasped quietly, and then retched a bit, coughing up more blood from his abused throat. Still keeping bent over, he then got back up onto his still shaky legs. Holding his ground he managed to look Ivan in the eye, focusing all the hatred he had for the Russki in his gaze. "Go to hell." And with that he quickly kicked Ivan in the vital region. Even though he knew there would be a consequence, his pride wouldn't let him take it without doing something himself to his captor.

**Grimacing in pain, Russia grabbed America by the hair. 'If you weren't as weak as a newborn baby, that might have hurt.' He took the long end of the rope he had tied to Alfred's wrists and wrapped it around the blood-spattered neck. 'I guess I will have to teach you yet another lesson.' He whispered in his ear, before he tightened the rope, effectively cutting off America's air supply. With his bound hands, he tried in vain to free himself. Russia gave a loud, booming laugh at the pitiful attempts at breathing. When Alfred's body started going limp, Ivan let him have air. When he was still regaining his life force, Russia****tossed the end of the rope up to one of the rafters, and it came sailing down the other side. He pulled on it, bringing America's arms above his head, forcing him to stand. He secured the end to a hook on the wall.**

America watched through spotted vision as Russia double checked his knots on both the wall and his wrists. As Russia slowly circled him, Alfred kept his head lowered; thinking of what he could do next. Even in his current state he couldn't stop himself from wanting to do _something_.

When Ivan made his was back in front of Alfred, he grabbed a hold of his jaw cruelly, forcing his head up. Russia looked down at him smugly, his cool, violet eyes sparkling with obvious glee.

Dredging up the last ounce of power he had, America shook his head from Russia's grasp and promptly spat on his boots -being more blood then saliva. "Fucking asshole, go burn in hell."

**The eco of the slap reverberated around the room. Russia kept his hand in the air for a few seconds, then brought it to cup Alfred's chin. He forced the blue eyes to meet his. 'Do you wish to die, Jones?' He said, his voice sickly sweet. He watched his left cheek turn red from the slap.**

**He walked slowly to the weapons closet, and making sure that America didn't see what he had grabbed, he walked behind him. He raised the whip, looking at the currently unmarred back. 'Perhaps I shall grant your wish.' There was a whistling sound as the whip made its way to the flesh before it. The sickening sound as it ripped into Alfred's back, as well as the loud cry of pain made Ivan smile with glee. He stared at the ribbon of red now adorning the muscular back as he raised the whip once again. He could tell that he had broken the man before him, who would not be standing right now if not for the ropes on his hands. **_**Crack! **_**Another line of blood, crisscrossing with the first. Another cry of pain, less surprised, but just as horrible. 'I can tell you are almost ready to sign the treaty to give me all your land.'**

Cringing with each slice of the whip, America had let most of his weight rest on his arms above him. The more times the weapon dug into his back, the less sound he made; the pain becoming so overwhelming it almost turned numb. Slowly, he turned his head back, ignoring the cool wetness running down his body.

Looking Russia in the eye, America laughed hoarsely and stuck his tongue out a bit in an act of defiance. "I told you..." he managed to say, "hero's _never_ give up."

'**Well, that may be true, but I will still have fun trying.' Once again Russia got the bottle of vodka and poured it down his bleeding back. The limp body went rigid with pain for a second, Alfred crying out swear words, and then it once again rested on the tension of the ropes. Smiling, Ivan leaned closer. 'I really shouldn't waste it.' He explained before licking a drop of alcohol from his victim's back, as well as some blood from the red lines. He stepped closer to get at more of the coppery liquid, putting his leg between Alfred's.**

America felt and saw the leg between his. With his head hanging down, it didn't surprise him to see Russian's knee force its way between his own.

Ivan continued languidly licking his back, removing the blood that hadn't congealed yet as well as the majority of the burning vodka; each stroke of his tongue causing Alfred's back to arch minutely.

Slowly, he shifted his weight from the bonds on his hands to his feet to prepare for his next, not thought out idea and with the most force his already weakened body could muster, he stomped on Russia's boot clad foot.

**Russia's booming laugh reverberated around the room. 'That was so cute, America. It was almost like you tried to hurt me.' But it had showed him that he would not be able to leave his prisoner's legs free. He went to get a three-foot bar with chains on either end. Bending down, he took the weakly squirming ankles and put them in the loops, ensuring that his legs stayed spread. 'You leave me no choice.'**

As the bar was fitted between his legs, subconsciously America realized that he had lost. Not only did he lose the ability to prove himself physically but also mentally. He no longer had any way of proving that he was, in fact, a hero capable of saving the world and in turn, himself.

Again, he felt Russia's leg between his own spread ones, meeting no resistance because of the bar.

**Reaching around his captive, Russia stuck his middle and pointer fingers in front of America's mouth. 'Suck.'**

**He felt Alfred's mouth open slowly. Smiling, he stuck his fingers in. He wasn't even surprised when his fingers were bitten. A part of him had even been hoping they would be.**

'**Well, Jones, I suppose that means you want neither lube nor fingers. Fine with me.' He grabbed the naked hips and brought them forward, but then stopped. 'Hmm, if I do this right now, you would not be able to handle it, would you?' He could tell this made America confused, so Ivan continued. 'No, you would cum too fast.'**

Alfred shivered slightly as he felt Ivan's gloved hand roughly grabbed his semi-erect cock. With slow, sure strokes America felt himself getting closer and closer to being fully erect; biting his bottom lip to stop from making the small sounds that threatened to escape. He could also hear Russia chuckling in his ear, murmuring something in Russian – or maybe English, since he couldn't hear it loud enough to understand it anyways.

Sensually, Russia blew warm, moist air over his ear and neck, causing him to thrust weakly into the hand that was holding him tight. He knew this was exactly what the Russian wanted, but the pleasure of it was slowly turning his brain to mush.

'**You're a little slut, aren't you?' Ivan whispered in America's ear. He could tell that the other was now fully erect, so he took the rubber ring out of his pocket. The cock ring fit perfectly as he slid it over the shaft, right to the hilt of Alfred's penis. 'There you go, now you will only be able to cum when I want you to.' He heard a slight whimper as he said that. **

"Never." With that one word, Alfred tried to force all the weakness, insecurity and hopelessness from his body. With it, he wanted to let the damn commie know that no matter what, he was America: world superpower and leader of the free world.

Instead, his word was met with more unimpressed laughter.

**Ivan reached down and unzipped his fly, releasing his manhood. 'If only you cooperated and joined me, then we wouldn't have to go through this.' With one smooth movement, Russia guided his large cock to America's small, un-stretched hole. He rubbed the tip over it, to give his prisoner an idea of what was in store for him.**

America's mind went blank except for the feeling of Ivan's length pressing slowly on his puckered entrance. Without waiting for him to get used to the size of it, Russia pushed in, causing Alfred to let out a long, loud yell making his throat start bleeding again.

He spat out more blood on the floor in front of him as Ivan moved in and out of him relentlessly. The sheer size of it as well as the lack of lube made America feel almost as if he was being ripped in half.

**Watching in perverted pleasure the pain he was causing Alfred, Russia grinned, rubbing the raw flesh of the still-bleeding back with his coat. He fucked him as hard and as fast as he could with his large dick. He felt liquid, and found that it was getting easier to thrust in and out. He saw it trickle down America's leg, glistening crimson.**

**When he heard Alfred cough up more blood, he grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head to the side. He then ravished the semi-conscious man's mouth, savouring the taste of salty blood. He continued assaulting his ass, keeping up the impossible pace.**

As he felt Ivan's tongue force its way into his mouth, America valiantly tried to turn his head and break free but was stopped by a strong tug on his hair. Russia continued to attack his mouth; occasionally biting his lip. The angle that his neck was forced into being was making it become sore.

With the insistent tongue in his bleeding mouth, his back being rubbed by Russia's coat causing it to become even rawer and his ass being pounded into relentlessly Alfred's body to become pretty much numb. All he could feel was the unyielding rhythm of his body being rocked, rubbed and all together assaulted.

**Finally taking his tongue out of the blood-filled mouth, Russia let go of America's hair. He continued to pound into the breaking body. He looked at Alfred's neck, and bit down on the side of his neck that had the cut on it, opening it up anew. He also reached around to the front of America's body, fondling the newly pierced nipple.**

**Looking at the bleeding man he was raping, Russia smiled. ****'Вы красивы, когда Вы походите на это.' **

"Bastard..." he started, spitting out more blood and trying to lean his back away from the scraping of Ivan's coat. "Don't... Understand..."

America then let his head hang down, too exhausted to keep it upright. He noticed that his cock had turned an angry red color and was weeping slightly, due to the cock ring. The sight of it made him feel ashamed due to the circumstance that he was in. Any other person would have become completely limp, yet America somehow wanted _more_. More pain, more friction, more _Ivan_.

'**You look like you're enjoying yourself, Alfred.' Russia said in a completely calm voice. 'You look like... you want to **_**cum**_**.' He slammed their bodies together, going further in the warm crevice, penetrating his victim. He knew he hit America's prostate when the walls clenched around his cock.**

Steeling himself against the barrage of thrusts to his sweet-spot, Alfred ground his teeth together only managing to hiss from his pain induced pleasure.

"Russia... _Please_..." America whispered, hanging his head lower and pushing up against the tall blond. The blood was making things move easier, making him want release more and more.

**Grinning, Russia answered. 'Please, **_**what**_**?' When America didn't answer right away, Ivan slid his hand down his abused body, heading for his groin. With his right hand, he started pumping Alfred's cock, making it swell even more, the cock ring the only thing keeping the broken man from an orgasm. 'Tell me what you want, dear Alfred.'**

His resolve snapping, America turned his head back to look the Russian in the eyes; broken blue meeting sparkling violet. "Fuck Ivan, I want _you!_"

'**Why thank you for the compliment.' Russia said, slightly surprised by the drastic change in his captive. He stopped thrusting for a moment, and squeezed on Alfred's cock. 'But I'm sure you want something else. Something to do with your dick.'**

Alfred continued to stare wantonly at Ivan, unable to say just what he wanted. His pride had taken enough of a beating by admitting he wanted the commie, he didn't need to have it completely destroyed.

Instead, he roughly thrust himself on Russia's cock and into his hand hoping that he would at least get the hint from that. No matter how much he wanted to give in, heroes never did, so neither would he.

**Russia laughed. 'You like me that much, Jones? Well, we wouldn't want that, now would we?' With that, he pulled out completely, and took his hand away. He turned around and walked towards the door. 'Someone will probably cut you down, eventually. I may even send someone, so you don't lose the use of your hands.'**

"Ivan... Please..." Alfred managed to whisper, shaking slightly as his will dissolved before his eyes. "Please... I need to..." He turned his head around, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes as he swallowed thickly. "I need to cum..." He spat out a bit of blood from talking so much.

**Smiling, Russia went over to the pathetic-looking man. 'If you insist.' He bent down, his face right in America's crotch. He took the weeping cock in his mouth, and with his tongue and lips took off the rubber ring.**

**The second it was off, Alfred came, his seed filling Russia's mouth. Some seeped out the corner. He wiped it off as he stood up, and kissed his prisoner, letting him taste himself. 'But I'm not finished.'**

**He knew America was watching him, barely conscious, as he walked behind him and once again spread his cheeks. He saw all the blood that was still seeping out, but soon plugged it up with his cock. He slammed into the abused body again and again, fulfilling his sexual urge. He knew it was almost killing Alfred, which was part of the reason he was doing it.**

Tired from finally having release, Alfred allowed himself to be thoroughly fucked by the sadistic monster. Most of his weight was being supported by his wrists –his arms long ago numb- and by the hands bruising his hips as they forced him down further onto the owner's manhood.

Ivan grunted quietly just before America felt the hot, burning sensation of being filled with his cum. He withdrew, making it seep out onto Alfred's thighs leaving a warm, sticky trail.

Before he could say anything else, America let his eyes close. Immediately after, his body went limp as he silently passed out.

**Immediately, Russia got his knife and cut the rope holding the American, catching him as he fell. Lowering him slowly to the ground, he quickly grabbed his scarf to use as a pillow. Ivan made quick work of the knot still on Alfred's wrists, freeing the unconscious man. 'My poor idiot.' He said quietly, picking him up in both hands and leaving the room.**


	3. Chapter 3

When America woke the next morning, before he even opened his eyes he let out a loud groan, then quickly put his uninjured hand over his throat. "God... My throat is dead..."

He then sat up slowly, wincing at the pain that spread completely over his bandaged back. Reaching up to rub his eyes, he then saw that his hand had been carefully wrapped in a Tensor bandage.

Ignoring the dull pulse coursing throughout his entire body, Alfred started looking around the room he was now in. He was laying on a large bed with crisp, clean sheets and a down filled comforter. America felt a twinge of remorse at the fact that his blood had started to seep through the bandages and soil the white sheets.

On the far wall of the large room, a window whose blinds had been left open allowed Alfred to look at the lazily falling snow outside. Luckily he had woken up at night so the light had not blinded him.

**Opening the door slowly, Russia peered in the room to see if his patient was awake. He saw America sitting up in bed, looking out the window. He noticed that the bandages on his back would need changing soon. 'You do realize that the safe word is there so you **_**don't**_** fall unconscious, da?' Said the Russian as he placed a bowl of ice cream on the bedside table.**

America grinned up at Russia as he grabbed the ice cream and started gorging himself on it. "Seriously," he started in-between heaping spoonfuls of ice cream, "did you really think you were going to get me to say _that_?" He continued eating the ice cream, placing the bowl and spoon back on the side table when he was finished. "Thanks for the ice cream by the way, my throat hurts like a bitch."

'**Yes, I thought it would. But you must admit, it was your fault.' Russia sat on the bed beside Alfred. 'Turn around and let me see your back.' He was almost surprised when his guest did as he had asked, but realized that they were not playing the game now, it was just real life. No orders and consequences, just civil conversation.**

**They would definitely need changing. He deftly took them off, taking care to not touch the wounds. Then he took some ointment and put it on, apologizing when America winced. Then he took some clean bandages and put them on. 'Now let me clean your nipple piercing.'**

"But what if I don't want to keep it?" America asked over his shoulder, his eyes and smile giving away his sarcasm.

Ivan just rolled his eyes and gave a small smile, motioning for America to turn around. Alfred did and hissed slightly at the cool liquid he sprayed on it before he twisted it around gently, making sure it didn't scab over.

'**But seriously, Alfred, clean it three times a day.' Russia bent forward and quickly kissed him on the lips. 'Hmm, maybe I'll pierce this next...' he said after very lightly dragging his teeth across America's bottom lip.**

"Like hell you will. At least with this one," he emphasized, pointing at it, "I can hide it from people. Piercing my lip would be like saying 'Hey everyone, guess what? Me and Russia are fuck buddies who are into kinky S&M shit'."

America beamed at Russia again then looked around the room once more. "Why didn't we have sex here? Looks waaay more comfortable."

'**Well, when we started this relationship, I don't think **_**comfort**_** is what we had in mind.' Russia said, raising an eyebrow. He then went to the bedside table and picked up a container of moisturizer. Taking some out, he started rubbing it lightly into the American's skin, so that there would be minimal scaring. He also put some over the bite marks on his neck and nipple. Then he started massaging his shoulders, working out all the tension from his arms being held above his head so long.**

Alfred moaned appreciatively at the massage, rolling his shoulders to help loosen them up. "Yah, but it'd be a nice change every once in a while. It would definitely make waking up in the morning a lot more enjoyable. Speaking of which, it feels like you drove a freaking truck over me."

Enjoying the massage he stayed quiet for a moment, allowing Russia to undo all the knots in his stiff shoulders. "Just one pet peeve about this time though: why did you keep changing your back story? Kinda threw me off on what to say; Y'know, like 'should I say something or just go along with it' wise."

**Russia's laugh boomed around the room. 'It was more fun this way.' He said, looking at the neck he had ravished a few hours before. 'You should probably go back to sleep. It will take time to heal fully.'**

America turned around to face Ivan again, sitting cross-legged and scowling slightly at the pain that burned its way up his spine. "Well, it is for the best and all. If Canada was to see me like this he'd probably have a spaz and never see you again. And don't even get me started on England. He'd probably revert to his 'colony' days and keep me locked up in his basement." Smiling again, he leaned forward and kissed Ivan slowly; their lips moulding to each other.

**Still kissing him, Russia positioned him so America was lying on his side. He covered up his friend lightly with a blanket. 'Sleep well.'**


End file.
